The cab ride back to my apartment was incredibly awkward. I had introduced Elio to Ly, and it did not go over well.

After Ly’s performance ended, and the gathered crowd began to disperse, Elio and I made our way back to the bar, where we ordered shots and stood in silence, scanning the remaining crowd for the appearance of a familiar face. Suddenly, Ly came gliding across the room, saddled up beside me, and ordered us each a drink while simultaneously greeting and thanking me for attending his show. We rapidly sipped our drinks as I poured compliments upon him, and he modestly pretended that he neither wanted nor deserved such praise. Realizing what a dick I had been for excluding him from the conversation, I immediately introduced Elio to Ly through a series of apologies, frenzied hand gestures, and nervous facial expressions. An uncomfortable silence ensued where the throbbing sound of the electronic background music became so loud it was almost deafening.

“That was a pretty good set you did,” Elio muttered as he stared at the top of the bar and clenched his jaw in an effort to disguise his disgust at having made that statement.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ly replied as he spun around to face the approaching bartender and gestured for her to bring us more drinks.

Ly twisted his body so that his ribcage and elbows were leaning against the edge of the bar, and his legs were poised against the floor in a series of angles that looked both elegant and uncomfortable. He lifted his right hand beneath his shirt and pulled out a long, silver chain with a pink and purple guitar pick hanging from the end. This was a gift from me; I had given it to Ly the second time I had seen him perform live. I found it on the ground while waiting in line to see his show, and drunkenly offered it to him after he frantically revealed that he had lost his own. After stating that he had performed his “best show ever,” he decided to drill a small hole through the top of the pick, loop a necklace through it, and wear it as a good luck charm for every show he played.

Ly dangled that pick between his fingers as he frigidly glared at Elio. I coughed to get Ly’s attention. As he turned to look at me, I raised my eyebrows and nodded my head towards Elio in an attempt to encourage further conversation between the two of them.

Ly limply turned his head in Elio’s direction, looked him up and down critically, then coldly stated, “So, Mike tells me you’re in town making a film.” Ly locked eyes with Elio and the look they exchanged burned green with jealousy.

“Yeah,” Elio mumbled as he took a long swig of his drink.

In a mocking gesture, Ly took a long swig of his own drink. “So, what’s this film about?” Ly quipped impatiently, while waving his right hand in a dismissive gesture towards Elio.

Elio squinted his eyes and ground his jaw in a semi-circle before angrily responding, “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. Confidentiality agreements and all.”

Ly again pressed his torso against the sharp, protruding edge of the bar. “Uh-huh, and where is this film being shot?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that.” Elio’s voice became lower, deeper, and slightly threatening. He quickly gestured to the bartender to bring all three of us a round of whisky and cokes.

Ly eyed the drink with a look of bourgeois snobbery intended more for Elio then his choice of beverage. “Hmmm…and what is the name of the production company you’re working for?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Uh-huh, and what’s the name of this film?”

“I can’t answer that either.”

“Okay, so, how long do you expect to be a part of this project?”

“I can’t answer that question and you know it!” Elio’s reply was quick, curt, and filled with anger as his face turned from red to purple, his breath grew heavy, and his grip on his mostly ice-filled cup became increasingly tighter.

“Wow, so, you’re just a wealth of information, aren’t you?” Ly shot Elio an unimpressed look that was accentuated by a smug smile and a cold glare from his icy blue eyes.

Elio stared venomously back at Ly, trying desperately not to lose his shit on him. Elio took a deep breath and allowed a smug smile, that intentionally mirrored Ly’s, to cross his face as he slowly exhaled. He placed both his hands on my shoulders and began gently massaging my back.

“Well, I guess that’s just the way it is.” Attitude seeped from Elio’s every word as he pulled my body tightly next to his. “I mean, you can’t always get what you want, right?” He leaned his head forward until his face was pressed firmly but tenderly against my own. “But then sometimes, I guess you can!”

I could feel the warmth of the smile that formed as Elio spoke this last sentence, just as I could feel the cold of the frown that Ly was struggling to suppress.

“You know what I just realized? That we really need to go!” I said as I wrenched myself from Elio’s grasp, grabbed his drink, and thrust it to his mouth in a frantic effort to encourage him to finish it. I chugged back my own drink, turned to Ly, and said, “I’m so sorry that we have to leave so suddenly, but, you know, duty calls!” I didn’t even know what I meant by this statement, and I assumed Ly didn’t either. But he seemed to ignore my awkward exclamation as he took a slow sip from his drink, his eyes never turning away from Elio.

“That’s cool,” Ly said. “I was getting bored of our present company anyway!” He chugged down the rest of his drink, slammed the glass on the top of the bar, and whipped his head to look me dead in the eye. “It was nice seeing you, Mike.” His eyes darted to look directly into Elio’s. “I know I’ll see you again soon!” For a quick second Ly’s eyes squinted, and his mouth curled into a primitive growl. Then he thrust himself into the crowd of people that still populated the bar, Elio’s angry gaze following him all the way.

Infuriated and embarrassed, I glared at Elio. “What?” he said as he lifted his hands in an obviously fake expression of misunderstanding.

“Let’s just go,” I said as I turned from him with disgust, then sped through the crowd and out the building’s exit.

Elio came running up beside me and began panting for air as the cab pulled up and we both slid into the backseat to begin our silent journey.